


Post-Script

by calrissian18



Series: Mating Games [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Post-slash?, break-up fic, i'm just here for the points, iron man gift wrap because tony is super self-destructive and so is Derek, title because everything after a break-up is kind of like a ps to the relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-09 00:38:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calrissian18/pseuds/calrissian18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His phone pings again on the nightstand and now he knows what's pulled him out of unconsciousness.  The alert flashes up on the screen:</p><p>
  <i>Wake up, doofus. It's your 27th! Sex you tonight. ;)</i>
</p><p>Derek hurtles it at the wall.</p><p>Written for the mating_games Bonus Challenge: Best/Worst birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Post-Script

**Author's Note:**

> Can I subtitle this series 'I'm Just Here For The Points'? Cos, um, I'm just here for the points.
> 
> This series will all be short and unrelated works written for [mating_games](http://mating-games.livejournal.com) on livejournal... so I can get points.

 

Derek's mouth tastes like something died in it.  He's not entirely sure something hasn't.  Last night was the full moon and those have gotten increasingly violent over the past few months.   His phone pings again on the nightstand and now he knows what's pulled him out of unconsciousness.  The alert flashes up on the screen:  
  
 _Wake up, doofus. It's your 27th! Sex you tonight. ;)_  
  
Derek hurtles it at the wall. Watching it explode into pieces isn't nearly as satisfying as he'd hoped. Instead he just feels cold, a lump of something heavy and rotten settling in his gut. He swings his legs over the edge of his lumpy mattress and takes in a deep pull of air to calm the trembling that's started in his arms. He stares at the broken bits of plastic. At least the damn chirping has stopped.  
  
Isaac is reading, flopped on the couch, when he comes downstairs. He looks up with a deep-set frown. "And what have we destroyed today?"  
  
Derek grunts and drinks orange juice straight out of the carton because it's his birthday and he's feeling spiteful and no one will call him on it today. He sinks into the armchair next to Isaac. Soulful eyes stare at him and he thinks he might even see a lip tremble.  Isaac hates when he goes non-verbal.  
  
Derek rubs at his eyes. "Stiles—" and his voice catches.  How fucking pathetic.  He digs his right hand into the armrest, claws scraping into the fabric. "Stiles set an alert on my phone."  
  
Isaac sits up a little straighter.  "So you killed it?"  
  
Derek grunts.  
  
Isaac bites his lip. His eyes shift to the side as though everything in him is questioning the brilliance of saying his next words aloud. "He would talk to you if you called." Derek's claws punch through the carton and he crushes the whole of it in his fist, juice dripping down his arm and onto the floorboards. Isaac recoils slightly and fiddles with the lace on his shoe, speaking to it instead. "It's your birthday." He stares up at Derek, eyes flashing gold. "It's the only free pass you're gonna get, might as well take it."  
  
Erica bounds through the door with Boyd sometime later and hands him a phone. Derek scowls at Isaac who offers him an unapologetic shrug. It's still in the box and unwrapped. Derek smirks at her and she rolls her eyes almost as if she's judging him for expecting anything more.  
  
Isaac takes it upon himself to program everyone's numbers in. Stiles's cell _and_ dorm number are in there. Derek's finger hovers over the delete key for the better part of an hour but he can't bring himself to press it.  
  
Scott doesn't show up until sixteen minutes after his birthday is technically over, which is just so like him. He claps Derek on the back and says brightly, "Happy birthday, Derek." Derek manages not to sneer at him. Scott grimaces a little and rubs the back of his neck. "Sorry. I know I'm late with it but..." Scott shrugs and lifts up the package he's holding. It's thin and rectangular and—"It's from Stiles."  
  
Derek's breath stutters in his chest and Scott practically has to shove the thing into his hands before Derek'll take it from him and then he's breezing past him looking for Isaac. Derek's hands are shaking when he carefully tears away the Iron Man paper with a snort.

A note rests on top of the thing and only Derek's supernatural reflexes keep it from fluttering to the ground.  He's crumbled it a bit in the process.  He recognizes Stiles's slanted handwriting instantly.  
  
 _Harry Birthday, Sourwolf._  
  
 _Try to enjoy it, eh?_

It's pathetic how eight words can crumple him so effortlessly.  He smooths his thumb over the nickname and then attempts to smooth out the whole sheet before folding it carefully and placing it in his jacket pocket with the rest of the wrapping paper.  It still smells a little like Stiles.  He finally looks back at what he's holding only to find a familiar photograph.  It's him and Laura from when their parents had shuttled the whole family off to the beach when they were eight or so.  Their smiles are huge as they beam into the camera in their bathing suits, arms thrown around each other's shoulders.  You could just barely make out their mom in the background.

Stiles had been the one to find it beneath a loose floorboard in Laura's old bedroom.  He'd fallen in love with it the second he'd seen it.  Derek had loved _him_ enough to let him keep it.

Stiles had changed the sleek black frame out for one with seashells embedded in it.  It takes him a minute but the scent of a familiar coast wafts up.  He remembers it from when Stiles had dragged him and the rest of the pack out for a 'pack bonding' day and they'd walked along the shoreline and Stiles's hand had brushed his while he talked a mile a minute and picked up shells off the beach.  Derek hadn't been able to stop smiling.

Derek laughs, more breath than sound, as he sinks down onto the porch steps on weak knees.  It's just like Stiles really, to give him the most thoughtful gift he's ever gotten while twisting the knife just a little bit further.  Because Derek knows what this means.  He traces the apple of Laura's cheek with his finger and draws in a shaky breath.  Stiles had loved looking at this - 'evidence that Derek Hale was happy,' he'd always said with a grin - and Derek knew for a fact that he'd kept it on his bedside table ever since he'd found and framed it.  
  
And now it was back in Derek's hands.  
  
He's in danger of cracking the frame in half and he sets it down by his side and covers his mouth with his palm.  
  
He doesn't cry but the urge to doesn't go away. He digs his claws into his thighs. In a minute he'll get up and delete Stiles's numbers from his phone, in a minute he'll collect himself, change and run as far away from this as he can, in a minute he'll put this godawful day behind him and he'll move on.  
  
He just needs a minute.

**Author's Note:**

> I create no original content and have a limited understanding of how to interweb. You know you wanna [jump on this train](http://wellhalesbells.tumblr.com/)...


End file.
